Babies and Blackmailers
by EHfan
Summary: Rachel thought it was tough adjusting to a new baby. Then she had to deal with a blackmailer who wanted Jacob to betray his country.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Set post "O Little Town of Bethlehem. And many, many thanks to my friend Lattelady. She helped me out of a corner I had written myself into and she gracsiously allows me to borrow bits of the EH world she created. T.C. McGruder is her creation along with the idea that Jacob and Alex share a house in Deale, Maryland.

Disclaimer: Do we even need these anymore? We seem to be the only ones who care about these characters.

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_Friday night:_

Frank Fuller looked pensively at the computer screen in front of him. Part of him was annoyed; he couldn't believe Jacob had been so stupid. Part of him was grudgingly admiring; if this was a deliberate ploy to hide in plain sight it had worked. But now he had to decide what to do about the information he had unearthed.

"Dad, Mom said if you don't come into dinner right now all you're gonna get are leftovers." Frank's teenage daughter Katie came into his home office. "What's so interesting?" she asked curiously as she came around his desk.

Frank quickly minimized his screen. "Internet porn," he replied promptly.

Katie wrinkled her nose. "Eww, not funny." She looked at him suspiciously. "You're not checking up on Ethan are you? I don't think you're allowed to do that, even if you are the director of the FBI."

"It's nothing for you to worry about. Tell your mother I'll be there in a few minutes."

As Katie left the room, Frank clicked again to bring his screen back up. He stared at it for a bit longer. No, there was no mistake, the Maryland Department of Vital Statistics clearly showed a certificate of marriage on file for Jacob Hood and Rachel Young dated nearly a year earlier. Sighing, he hit the print button before closing the browser and opening his email. A few more clicks and he sent a meeting request to Tyler C. McGruder.

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_Sunday morning:_

Jacob woke slowly, with the vague feeling something wasn't right. He blinked sleepily, trying to identify the problem. As he came more fully awake he realized what was wrong; Rachel wasn't in his arms. They had returned home from their latest case yesterday which meant they had fallen asleep tangled together after making love in their own bed.

He frowned as levered himself up on an elbow to glance at the clock on the bedside table. It wasn't quite six in the morning; Rachel was never up this early on a weekend day. Just as he was beginning to wonder if she was all right; he heard the toilet flush and the running of water. He relaxed back onto his pillows; obviously she had awakened and needed to use the bathroom. He felt his cock harden at the prospect of her re-joining him in bed.

He smiled as Rachel came out of the bathroom; she was wearing the shirt he had discarded on the floor the night before. He couldn't decide if her habit of wearing his shirts stemmed from her knowledge of how sexy he thought she looked in them or if she couldn't be bothered to look for her robe. His smile vanished when he realized Rachel was looking at him apprehensively with her hand behind her back.

"Sweetheart, is something the matter? Are you ok?"

Rachel slowly held her hand out to Jacob. "Umm, yeah, more or less…" She trailed off looking at Jacob uncertainly.

"What is that?" Jacob was puzzled. "A thermometer? Do you have a fever…?" His mouth dropped open when he recognized what Rachel was holding in her hand. It was a pregnancy test stick. He scrambled out of bed and took her by the shoulders. "Rachel, are you…"

Rachel smiled and held up the stick so Jacob could read the word 'pregnant' in the little window. After a gasp of surprise, he pulled her against him and kissed her passionately. His hands slid from her shoulders under the hem of the shirt and he grasped her ass. Her arms automatically went around his neck. Rachel moaned against his mouth as he pulled her up against his naked body; she could feel his cock hard against her belly.

Her knee slid up his leg and she hooked her leg around his, pulling him even closer. Jacob's hands moved to her thighs, as he lifted her she wrapped her legs around his waist. Jacob staggered over to the bed and sprawled backward onto it, Rachel on top of him.

Rachel tugged off the shirt and leaned down to kiss Jacob. He rolled, pinning her beneath him as he trailed kissed across her jaw to her ear. His tongue traced the inside of her ear as he whispered to her.

"Do you have any idea how turned on I am? How badly I want to fuck you right now?"

His mouth continued to work its way down her throat to her collarbone while his hands caressed her breasts. His mouth finally found her breasts and he traced her nipples with his tongue. Rachel was writhing beneath him, moaning with pleasure.

Jacob paused, "I can't wait to see the changes in your body."

"I thought my breasts were perfect already," Rachel gasped. "At least…."

"I'm not talking about your breast swelling. " His hand moved over her belly. "I can't wait to see your belly get big, big with our child."

His mouth replaced his hand on her belly as his hand moved lower, to sketch patterns on the inside of her thighs. Rachel moaned in anticipation as Jacob trailed kisses from her belly, along the line of her hips, and finally as he nipped at the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.

"Oh fucking hell, yes, baby, right there. Please Jacob, right there."

Jacob slipped his hands under her ass, lifting her, opening her to him, as he moved his mouth to her core, his tongue teasing her, bringing her closer and closer to her climax. Rachel twisted one hand in his hair, holding him tightly against her, her cries becoming higher and more frantic as she felt her muscles tightening, her vagina feeling hot and wet.

As he felt the first contractions of her muscles, Jacob slid up her hot, sweaty body. Nudging her thighs apart with his knees, he entered her with one quick stroke. The feel of Jacob's cock, hard and deep inside of her provided the final sensation she needed. As her climax washed over her she clung to him, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapped around his hips.

The feeling of Rachel's climax, her body tightening around his cock was too much for Jacob. He thrust into her, hard and fast. Within minutes, his own climax overwhelmed him. He buried his face in her hair, groaning in satisfaction.

After a few minutes, Rachel nuzzled the side of Jacob's neck, smiling with contentment. "I'm glad you took the news so well."

"I must admit I _had _thought this was something we'd talk about, but yeah…"

Rachel's post-coital glow disappeared abruptly. She pushed Jacob off of her and sat up, clutching the sheets around her. "Just what the hell does that mean?" she snapped. "You think I did this on purpose?"

His eyes widened in surprise, he couldn't understand Rachel's reaction. "I didn't say you did. I only meant I never thought your birth control would fail, we'd have time to plan…"

She grabbed a pillow and whacked him. "And that _failure _is as much your fault as mine Jacob Hood." She glared at him "Actually, it's all your fault."

Despite his best intentions, Jacob couldn't keep from smiling. "I don't think it's entirely my fault you're pregnant."

Rachel hit him with the pillow again.

"Yes, yes it is. I was perfectly happy with my implant. But nooo, you were worried about the long-term effects on my health. You're the one who insisted I try something different."

"But sweetheart," Jacob objected. "The ring has a failure rate of .03%, the same as your implant. And it's a damned sight safer long-term."

Rachel slumped against the head of the bed, her anger forgotten. "Yeah, when you use it right." She recovered enough to shoot a glare in Jacob's direction. "I knew something like this would happen but you wouldn't listen."

Rachel hadn't been enthusiastic about switching from her implant to a vaginal ring; despite the fact her doctor assured her it was as effective as her implant. Her problem lay in the fact she had to remember, every three weeks, to remove the damned thing and then, a week later, to insert a new one. She worried that with their hectic life-style it would be too easy to make a mistake. With the implant she didn't have to think. The doctor kept track of the timing and sent her a reminder notice when it was time to have it replaced. But Jacob had nattered on and on about the long-term risks and she had finally agreed to shut him up.

She had only been using the ring a few months when the inevitable happened. Six weeks ago when it was time to insert a new ring, they had been in the field. The case they were working was especially challenging. The crops in an experimental field were withering and dying for no apparent reason. They had been investigating the situation around the clock. Rachel barely had time to eat or sleep, let alone to think about her contraceptive choices.

It might not have mattered but for the shoot-out. When Jacob had finally realized what was going on, who had tampered with the crops, he insisted on confronting the man immediately. What none of them realized was the man had not been acting alone; he was merely a tool. When they reached the man's location, they walked in on a murder in progress. Gunfire had been exchanged and Rachel was saved from injury only because she had donned her vest before setting out.

Jacob had made it clear that night was an exception to her no-sex-in-the-field rule. He had come too close to losing her and he needed the reassurance of holding her, loving her. Rachel did not need persuading. Her brush with death had made her as desperate for him as he was for her. Over the next week, while they cleared up the details in the case, Jacob had invoked his the-case-is-over-and-no-one-gives-a-damn-about-us corollary to her no-sex-in-the-field rule on most nights. It wasn't until they were packing to return to DC that she remembered the ring.

She had been unsure what to do. She knew she couldn't just insert a new one; if she had become pregnant, it could cause problems. She was also reluctant to tell Jacob. She was afraid he'd worry and obsess about her condition. She decided to wait and see; wait until she knew for sure what was happening to her body. If she wasn't pregnant, she'd insert a new ring at the proper time and that would be the end of it. If she were pregnant, well, she'd deal with that prospect then.

The fact they had worked two cases back to back had made her feel her decision was the right one. Jacob would have been distracted and it would have interfered with his ability to focus on the problem at hand. Besides, while they were working they weren't having sex, so the chances of her getting pregnant were diminished.

Jacob's eyebrows rose slightly at Rachel's tale. He internally debated pointing out the very large holes in her logic. When she realized they had been having unprotected sex, the logical thing to do would have been to start using condoms until they knew one way or another. Even if they hadn't been having sex regularly, it only took one time. Every act of unprotected sex increased the chances of pregnancy exponentially. With a small smile he decided, for the sake of marital harmony, he should keep his mouth shut. He reached out to pull her into a hug. Rachel at first batted at his hands but she allowed herself to be drawn into his arms.

Tipping her face up to his, Jacob looked into Rachel's eyes. "Are you unhappy about this baby?"

Smiling, Rachel shook her head. "You know I'm not, a little shocked maybe, but yeah, I'm happy."

"Well, you know I'm thrilled, so what are we arguing about?" Jacob eased them both down on the bed, "I think we should enjoy a lazy Sunday in bed." He nuzzled the top of her head. "It won't be long before we can't do this anymore."

Rachel sat back up. "Tempting, but we can't spend all day here. We promised Alex we'd have dinner with her and Owen if we got back to town in time." Her expression turned sober. "And we do have to talk, to plan. We need to decide what to tell the Bureau."

Frowning, Jacob sat up and leaned against the headboard. "I don't think we should tell them anything. We should both go in tomorrow and tender our resignations, effective immediately."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "You want to quit? Why? I thought you enjoyed your work?"

Jacob reached out to stroke Rachel's face. "I don't think it's fair only you should be penalized because of our relationship. Why should you have to give up a job you enjoy, one you're good at, while I get to keep mine?" He shook his head decisively. "No, it's best if we both quit."

Rachel tried to argue but Jacob was adamant. She pointed out they had always known that eventually she would have to leave the Bureau. She had gone into the relationship knowing she was breaking the rules and she was willing to pay the price. He had retorted he was just as guilty of breaking the rules as she was and he wasn't about to let her face the consequences alone. Rachel argued they would soon have not only themselves but a baby to support; with her poor job prospects they needed his FBI salary. Jacob countered that he not only had adequate financial resources to support a family but he was constantly getting feelers from both academia and the private sector. He wouldn't be out of a job long.

"Look, it's for the best I quit too," Jacob framed Rachel's face with his hands. "To be perfectly honest with you, I've always been a little afraid of this moment; the moment when we had to face the music. Afraid you might someday resent me for costing you your job. I think…"

"Cost me?" Rachel interrupted him. "Jacob, you're not costing me anything. You've _given_ me so much. How could I ever resent you? How could you _ever_ think I would value a job over you or our family?" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Ok, maybe I can see where you could think that, since we have kept our relationship secret." She took his hands in hers, "but I only wanted to postpone not being with you every day. Not postpone losing the job." Her face scrunched up. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Jacob wrapped his arms around her. "But I think it would be best for everyone if we both quit." He looked down at her, "even if you quit without telling them about us, about the baby, you know word will leak out if I'm still with the Bureau. I certainly don't intend to hide you from my new handler or Frank."

Rachel snorted with laughter. "I'd like to see you try to hide me when I'm nine months pregnant. Look, it won't matter who knows what after I've quit. Yes, there'll be gossip but it won't be the same as if I got kicked out on my ass for having an affair with you. My only goal here is to not be fired. Eventually I'm going to want to get a new job and it will be easier if I wasn't fired for cause."

"Now," she continued. "Tell me honestly Jacob. Do you want to stay with the Bureau?"

"I guess," he shrugged. "At least for now. I'm not sure I'll want to travel as much once the baby's here though."

"We can deal with that later. Right now let's focus on getting me separated from the Bureau with the least amount of trouble."

They spent the rest of the morning debating the wording of Rachel's letter of resignation, making love, and planning the logistics of the following day. They decided once they arrived at the Hoover Building, Jacob would remain in his lab while Rachel met with McGruder to tender her resignation. Late that afternoon, they went to Deale as planned and shared their news with Alex.

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_Monday morning_

Rachel took a deep breath as she entered the anteroom of T.C. McGruder's office. As carefully as she and Jacob had planned how they wanted the day to go, now she actually had to face McGruder she was as nervous as hell. She only hoped her detail chief wouldn't ask too many questions.

His administrative assistant looked up at her entrance. "May I help you?"

"Agent Young to see Detail Chief McGruder. I, uh, don't have an appointment."

"I'm sorry Agent Young; Chief McGruder is with the Director right now." She looked at Rachel pointedly, "he's rather busy today. Would you care to make an appointment for tomorrow?"

Rachel swallowed. _'Shit.'_ It had never occurred to her or Jacob McGruder might not be available. "No, I'm afraid that isn't possible, I really need to see the chief right away. It's something of an emergency."

The two women starred at each other for a few moments. The admin gave in. With a sigh she reached for her phone. "Hello, Tracey? Is Detail Chief McGruder still in with the Director? Oh…, well, there's an Agent Young here to see the Chief, she says it's an emergency." She waited while her counterpart in the Director's office relayed the message. Her face registered surprise and she hung up. "You're to go right up."

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T.C. McGruder studied the paper Frank Fuller had handed him. "Damn it, married? I gotta say, I didn't see this coming." He looked up at the Director. "I've been wondering, they've been together so long, if something wasn't going on," he shrugged, "but this? You do realize I'll have to fire her don't you?"

"It's not that easy Ty," Frank sighed.

McGruder's eyebrows shot up. "Look, Frank, I know Hood's a friend of yours, but this, this is a clear violation of EPD protocol."

"Friendship has nothing to do with this," Frank retorted. "It's FEW that has everything to do with it."

"Few? What the hell are you talking about Frank?"

"Federally Employed Women, I had a delegation from their DC chapter visit me after that mess with Ray Wynne." Both men's faces twisted with disgust at the mention of the former Deputy Director. "It seems they were concerned about what it said about the culture of the FBI when we were so quick to assume Sofia Lyons had to be crazy when she claimed a consensual sexual relationship with a supervisor."

"Wait a second, Lyons did a hell of a lot more than that," McGruder protested. "She shot and kidnapped Young. Firebombed a house."

"Yeah," Frank put in impatiently, "after we fired her and let Wynne put her in the hands of a drug-happy doctor." Frank snorted. "As much as some people around here hate to admit it, FEW had a point. When Lyons first made her claim against Wynne, we should have suspended both of them, done a full investigation."

"Oh come on Frank, hindsight's 20/20, why should you have suspected anything was wrong?"

"I don't know," Frank glared at McGruder, "maybe because it took Jacob less than twenty-four hours to discover not only did Lyons have a baby like she claimed but Wynne actually was the father."

He rubbed his face. "Look at the situation stripped to its basics. We have a female FBI employee involved in a consensual sexual relationship with a man who is technically her supervisor. When we discover it, we fire her but let him continue in his position." He looked at McGruder glumly. "It's the Wynne thing all over again."

"Not at all," said McGruder. "We have a clear violation of FBI protocol here."

"We had it in the Wynne case too," Frank snapped. "In case you haven't bothered to read 'em, HR has established clear guidelines regarding consensual sexual relationships between supervisors and employees." He slumped back in his chair. "And the woman involved this time isn't some run-of-the-mill civilian employee. Young is a decorated agent with a personnel folder full of commendations for a job well-done." He raised an eyebrow, "one of them from you just last month."

McGruder swore softly. "You're right. Politically, either both of them go or both of them stay." He looked at Frank thoughtfully. "So, what do you want to do?"

"I thought you wanted to fire her?"

McGruder shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I said I had to fire her, not that I wanted to fire her." He looked at Frank ruefully. "She's a damn good agent. She's been doing good work with Hood, work that goes well beyond her brief as his bodyguard and handler." He tapped the copy of the marriage certificate. "She's been doing good work since this happened, hasn't seemed to interfere in any of her duties."

He shrugged and continued. "As for Hood, yeah, he was a pain in my ass for a while, but the work he's been doing? Most of it is vital to the security of the country. People with his qualifications don't grow on trees, be a damned shame to lose him too."

Frank leaned back in his chair. "Exactly, you see my problem…" his face showed annoyance as his phone rang. "I told Tracey to hold my calls." He picked up the receiver and barked "What?" A thoughtful look crossed his face and he glanced at McGruder. "Tell her to come up here. Now."

"What was that about?"

"It seems Agent Young is down in your office. Says she needs to see you; about an emergency."

"Well, well, well," McGruder raised an eyebrow. "Do you think she knows you found this?" He held up the marriage certificate.

"I don't see how, I printed it at home Friday night and locked it in my briefcase. I didn't tell anyone why I wanted to see you this morning either."

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Rachel's palms were sweating and she had trouble opening the door to the Director's office. This definitely didn't figure into her and Jacob's carefully laid plans. She took a steadying breath as she walked across the floor and came to attention in front of the Director's desk.

"Sir, I need to speak to Chief McGruder confidentially."

"Don't be ridiculous Young," McGruder snapped. "There's nothing you have to say to me the Director can't hear."

A brief smile touched Frank's lips. "I have to say I agree with Ty on that one."

Rachel swallowed and briefly closed her eyes. She faced McGruder squarely and handed him the letter she held in her hand. "Sir, I'd like to offer you my resignation, effective immediately. Dr. Hood is aware of my intentions and is waiting with Agent Lee in his lab for my replacement." She pulled her weapon from its holster and laid it on the Director's desk. Her FBI badge and ID followed it. "If that's all sir, I'll say goodbye and that it was an honor working with, for you."

As Rachel turned to leave McGruder's voice stopped her. "Not so fast missy."

She stiffened and turned, "Sir?"

McGruder had opened her letter, skimmed it and passed it along to Frank. "I have a few questions." He pointed to the chair beside him. "Sit."

"With all due respect sir, I don't work for you anymore." Rachel titled her head toward the letter in the Director's hand. "I quit."

"Well," McGruder drawled, "Maybe I don't accept your resignation."

Rachel sat down abruptly a look of horror on her face. "Not accept my resignation? Why not?"

Frank looked up from the letter in his hand. "We have a few questions, that's all." He held up the letter, "the first being, what prompted this?"

Rachel raised her chin stubbornly. "I thought my letter was clear. I want to pursue other opportunities. I've enjoyed my time with the FBI but I feel it's time to move on."

"Umm, so you said." Frank looked thoughtful. "You also said Dr. Hood knows of your intentions. Is it safe to say he approves of your quitting?"

"Uh, well, yes, I guess so." She collected herself. Remembering Jacob would have a continuing relationship with Frank and the FBI she didn't want to lie. "He thinks I should do what I feel is best."

Frank came around his desk, leaning against it he handed Rachel the copy of the marriage certificate he had found on the Internet. "Rachel, is this why you're resigning?"

Rachel looked at the certificate in shock. She looked at Frank and McGruder. "I see, this is why you won't accept my resignation, you're going to fire me." Her shoulders slumped. "I don't blame you; we've been lying to you for months now."

Her eyes filled with tears. Blinking hard to prevent them from falling, Rachel hurried into speech. "I know I don't deserve it, but could you please just accept my resignation? The work Jacob does for the Bureau is vital. He really is a high priority asset. It would be hard for him to continue with the kind of gossip my firing would ignite. He'd hate it."

"No one's talking about firing you," McGruder said gruffly. He looked at Frank hopefully, "A resignation…?"

Frank shook his head regretfully. "No, people would say we coerced her."

McGruder tilted his head considering. "Yeah, you're right." He sighed. "So what do we do?"

Rachel looked at both men, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm thinking a transfer, she's overdue for one anyhow. With her record, she could easily move into a more responsible position. Let people think we knew about the situation, didn't like it, but were willing to go along provided they were discreet." Frank offered.

McGruder considered this scenario. "Hmm, not bad, Hood has a high enough profile, people could see where we might want to bend the rules." He snorted. "And god knows we had enough trouble coming up with a handler for him."

Rachel tried to protest, but both men ignored her.

"The only problem, why the transfer now?" Frank looked at Rachel speculatively.

McGruder also regarded Rachel with consideration. "Yeah, we need a good reason for why we're splitting them up now after we've supposedly tolerated the situation for this long."

Rachel was unnerved by the looks on the faces of the two men. By the conversation they were having. Without thinking she blurted out, "I'm pregnant."

Frank's jaw dropped but McGruder shook his head, "Nah, we can't tell people that, they'll eventually…" He trailed off and smiled broadly. "I'll be damned."

He looked at Frank and his smile vanished. "You do realize this changes things a bit. She has to be out of the EPD today, no ifs, ands, or buts."

"But Ty…" Frank protested

McGruder shook his head decisively. "No, one rule of the EPD that has to remain inviolable is that I can't have a pregnant agent." He raised an eyebrow. "My agents have been trained to put their lives on the line without a second thought. A pregnant agent will have a second thought; one that could cost lives, not only their protectee's but their own."

Frank nodded soberly. "You're right. Whatever we do, it has to be done today."

"Sir, can't you just accept my resignation?" Rachel asked a bit desperately.

Frank ignored her question. "You said Jacob was in his lab?" He reached behind him and hit the intercom button on his phone. "Tracey, could you get Dr. Hood down here? He's in his lab." He turned back to the others. "We really can't decide anything without him."

He squatted down to put his eyes on the same level as Rachel's. He took her hands in his own, "but before he gets here I need to know. Your quitting. Is it what you want or is it what Jacob wants?"

"I, we both, I mean…" Rachel stammered.

Frank squeezed her hands. "Is it what you think has to happen or is it what you want to have happen?"

Rachel blinked hard, willing herself to not cry. "Has to happen," she whispered as a few tears rolled down her cheek.

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Felix Lee looked up from his magazine with a look of exasperation and pity on his face. "Ya know, Doc, you checking your watch every five minutes isn't going to make the time go any faster."

Jacob flashed him a quick smile and continued pacing around his small lab. "I know Felix, but I can't help but wonder, worry, about what's taking so long. I mean, how long does it take to hand in a letter of resignation?"

The big man shrugged. "Depends. Maybe McGruder was busy when Agent Young got to his office. Maybe she had to wait." He didn't want to worry the Doc, but most likely McGruder had plenty of questions for Agent Young. She was an experienced and decorated agent; McGruder wouldn't want to let her go that easy.

Both men jerked to attention when the phone in the lab rang. Jacob looked at it apprehensively for a moment before he answered. "Hello? Oh, hello Tracey. Did he say why? Ok, I'll be right down."

Jacob hung up with a worried look on his face. He looked up to find Felix looking at him inquiringly. "Frank wants to see me, didn't say why."

Felix shrugged. "I hate to say it Doc, but I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst." He pulled himself to his feet. "Come on, I'd better escort you down there."

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Preparing for the worst, Jacob cautiously opened the door to Frank's office. His hesitancy vanished immediately when he saw Rachel hastily wiping tears from her cheek.

"Damn it Frank," he growled, "have you been bullying her? If you've been giving her any crap…"

"Shut up, Jacob," Frank said amiably as he straightened up against his desk. He raised an eyebrow. "I think we need to have a little talk." He gestured to a conversational grouping of a sofa and chairs in the corner of his office. "Why don't we all sit down and discuss this rationally?"

Jacob sat beside Rachel on the small sofa and leaned forward, facing Frank and Ty aggressively. "I don't see what there is to discuss. Rachel's decided she wants to take her life in another direction, she doesn't want to be an agent anymore…"

Rachel put her hand on Jacob's arm, interrupting his tirade. "They know Jacob." Her breath caught in her throat. "They know everything."

Frank almost laughed at the look of dismay on Jacob's face. "I understand congratulations are in order."

Jacob scooted over and put his arm around Rachel, he looked at Frank defiantly. "Ok, yes, she, we, broke your rules. But I swear to god Frank, if you fire her instead of letting her resign, I'm out of here too."

"This would have been much easier," Frank handed the copy of the marriage certificate to Jacob, "if you had come to me with this originally. Now, it's gonna take a bit of maneuvering on my part to get us all though this."

Jacob looked at Rachel in confusion. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't understand either, but they," she gestured to Frank and McGruder, "don't seem to think I should be fired or resign."

Once again Frank explained the concerns raised by FEW and how he was afraid, in the current situation, he'd be forced to fire Jacob as well as Rachel. He glared at Jacob.

"And as much as you're a pain in my ass, I'd hate to lose you, the work you do. Your position is one of the most successful initiatives I've launched as director."

"So what, you stick Rachel in some hole-in-the-wall office, in some do-nothing job, to prevent a scandal?" Jacob shook his head, "that's unacceptable, if you think I'd…"

Rachel once more laid a hand on Jacob's arm. "I think," she murmured, "we should hear the Director out."

"You may be a genius, but you don't know jack-shit about politics," Frank said shaking his head. "If Rachel was transferred to a position like that, _that_ would create a scandal." He pursed his lips. "People would wonder what we were trying to cover up; how a highly decorated agent had blotted her copybook so badly to be transferred to a dead-end job. No, the best way to handle a situation that could cause a scandal is to act as if there's nothing out of the ordinary going on."

"Exactly," McGruder nodded approvingly. "You hide in plain sight. As long as we act as if there's no problem, well, people will take their cues from us."

"Ty and I have already discussed this. We think we can pull this off easily enough." Frank flicked his finger at the certificate in Jacob's hand. "Our _official_ position is that the two of you came to us a year ago. Neither one of us liked it, but we were willing to go along with your marriage as long as you were discreet." He raised an eyebrow. "Which no one can deny you were. So, yes, it was irregular but the two of you have a pretty damned good track record; people could see where we wouldn't want to split you up."

He smiled. "Until now, now Rachel _has_ to be transferred from the EPD. And luckily, there's recently been an opening I think she's be perfect for."

Rachel raised her head hopefully, "Where is that sir?"

"Special Agent in Charge of the Counter-Terrorism Division. You were doing good work in C-T before Ty poached you for a position in the EPD. With your language skills and background people won't be to surprised by the move." Frank looked at her appraisingly. "But you'll have two bosses. As the SAC you report to the EAAD for National Security. You'll also be the FBI liaison to All-Sec. It's a cross-agency deal; you'll meet weekly with liaisons from the CIA, the NSA, and Homeland Security. And in that capacity you report directly to me." He cocked his head, "Think you're up for it?"

Rachel sat stunned. If she could have drawn up the specifications for her dream job in the FBI, this would pretty much be it. "Sir, I, yes, I mean," she stuttered to a halt and took a deep breath. Looking the director in the face she said, "Thank you sir, I'll do my best to justify your confidence in me."

"Good," said Frank briskly. "Now, let's get the paperwork going to get this settled."

McGruder rose from his seat and looked balefully down at Jacob. "I'll go over my roster and see who's available. And you better try damned hard to get along with whoever I select."

Jacob opened his mouth to protest, but once again Rachel silenced him with a hand on his arm. Frank and Ty's eyes met and they shared a smile at the way Jacob was so easily managed by the woman at his side.

"Sir, if I could make a suggestion? I understand Terrance Mason recently transferred to the EPD from White Collar." At McGruder's nod she continued. "He worked with us on a case a few months ago, we were both impressed with his abilities; I think he'd make an excellent replacement for me."

Grunting with approval at this suggestion, McGruder swept Jacob from the room. It would take a day or so to retrieve Mason from his current assignment and until then, the two of them would review the roster to select a temporary bodyguard. Jacob paused at the doorway, a small smile on his face as he watched Frank huddled with Rachel, as he outlined the parameters of her new position. It looked as if, once again, Rachel was correct; there were such things as miracles.


	2. Chapter 2

_One year later….._

Jacob Hood breathed a sigh of relief as the old house on the Chesapeake Bay came into view. Even though it was nearly midnight there was still a light burning in the front room window. He hoped that meant Rachel had waited up for him. He should have been home hours ago, but a storm in Chicago had played hell with air traffic control all though the mid-west. He had been on the road, non-stop, for six weeks and he ached to hold Rachel in his arms again.

"Finally home, sir." Terrance Mason was dead tired. Normally, he enjoyed his duties as body guard and handler of the Special Science Advisor but today was not one of those days. Dr. Hood had been antsy; he was eager to get home and waiting in various airports had been trying to say the least. The good doctor had insisted on attempting to change their itinerary, to route them around the storms. He hadn't been patient or good-natured when his efforts were thwarted. Mason hoped it would be a few days before they were called out again.

The SUV had barely stopped moving before Jacob was out of the vehicle and up the front porch steps. He looked around expectantly, disappointed Rachel hadn't met him in the entryway. Surely she had heard the car pull up? He hurried toward the front room, smiling at the thought of seeing her again. His smile dimmed when he found only his sister Alex, working with her sketch book.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Alex rose and kissed her brother on the cheek. "We were expecting you hours ago."

"I called," Jacob defended himself, "We got back as quickly as we could." He looked around Alex, hoping Rachel had fallen asleep on the sofa facing the fireplace. "Where's Rachel?"

"Where do you think she is? It's almost midnight Jacob; she's where any mother of a three month old infant would be, in bed getting some badly needed sleep."

Jacob's brow knitted. While he knew Rachel needed more sleep than he did, he couldn't see why she would be sleep deprived anymore. "I thought Isaac was sleeping through the night now." He looked at Alex doubtfully, "at least I'm pretty sure Rachel told me that."

Alex looked at her brother in exasperation. "That's the only thing saving her from total exhaustion; instead she's only bone-tired." She waved her hand as Jacob opened his mouth. "I've been helping where I can, but Rachel's stubborn, you know that. She says _her_ baby is _her_ responsibility" She glared at him, "it would be nice if the child's father was around to help out." She broke off her tirade to look over Jacob's shoulder. "Oh, hello Terrance."

Terrance smiled weakly. "Good evening ma'am." He cleared his throat. "Um, I've locked up and activated the security system. Goodnight, Dr. Hood, Ms. Alex." He thankfully escaped to his suite of rooms on the third floor. It sounded as if Ms. Alex was winding up to read the riot act to Dr. Hood. He felt some sympathy for the man; he knew better than most how much Dr. Hood hated being away from his wife.

"I thought Rachel was doing well," Jacob said mildly.

"She's fine; but adjusting to a new baby is hard and her job doesn't make it any easier. The FBI and babies don't mix well."

"Come on," Jacob protested. "They're pretty family friendly. I mean, they have an on-site daycare and neither Rachel or I had any trouble getting leave after Isaac was born."

"Like that's all that matters. Do you have any idea of the difficulties she faces? Not only are women in the minority at the Bureau, Rachel is the only woman at her level in her branch or division or whatever it's called. Hell's she's one of only two women in charge of a unit in the whole freaking Hoover Building. She's put herself under a lot of pressure; it's as if she's afraid she'll come in for criticism if caring for her child interferes with her work."

"It can't be that bad, I'm willing to bet some of those men have kids too." Jacob snorted, "hell, Frank has three of his own, I'm sure they understand…"

"Please, like it's the same for men? And just how has being married, having a child, interfered with your work life, Jacob?" Alex glared at the brother.

Jacob bit his lip. He couldn't ague, she was right. The entire childcare burden had fallen on Rachel. He hadn't wanted or meant to stay away so long, but he was able to do so because she was there to pick up his slack. His shoulders slumped as he realized how he had failed not only Rachel, but his son. Alex took pity on him, she hated the stricken look on his face; she shook her head and suggested they both turn in for the night.

Nodding, Jacob picked up his duffle and headed for the bedroom on the first floor. He slipped in and saw Rachel, lying on her side, asleep. He abandoned his original idea of kissing her awake. As quietly as possible, he changed into a pair of sleep pants and slid under the covers beside her. He was pleasantly surprised when she wiggled against him, pushing her ass into his groin.

"Um, 'bout time you got here," she murmured sleepily.

Jacob gave a low growl of pleasure as he put his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his body. He nuzzled her neck while his hands found their way under her camisole. "You feel so damned good."

"So do you lover," Rachel wiggled her bottom, enjoying the feel of Jacob's hard cock rubbing against her. "But we have to be careful."

"What? Why?" Jacob lifted his mouth from Rachel's neck to look around the room, puzzled. Surely she wasn't worried about them waking the baby? He distinctly recalled her telling him Isaac had been moved to his own room weeks ago.

"Well, rumor has it my husband is on his way home. Oww." Rachel protested as Jacob nipped her shoulder.

"Not at all funny."

Rachel turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes it was." She kissed him passionately. "God, baby, I've missed you so much," she murmured against his mouth. Pushing Jacob onto his back, Rachel straddled him. Tugging off her camisole, she leaned over, her breasts brushing his chest, and began kissing his neck and rubbing her hands along his shoulders. She moaned with pleasure as Jacob's hands stoked her back and then down her sides, pushing her sleep shorts over her hips. Knelling up on the bed she slid the shorts down her legs and kicked them off.

Jacob's hands moved to her hips, his fingers digging into her as he slid her across his groin. Fumbling with the waistband of his pants, Rachel freed his cock. She ran her hand up and down his hard length. "I can't believe how hard you are already."

"I've missed you too," Jacob gasped. "Slow down sweetheart, you're going to make me come."

"That," she said with a small laugh, "is the general idea." Holding Jacob's cock firmly, she guided him inside her. "Oh fucking hell baby, you feel so, so good."

Leaning forward, Rachel braced her hands on his shoulders and began riding him with short quick strokes. Jacob's hips bucked up off the bed as his fingers dug into her thighs, trying to push himself even deeper inside of her. As her climax built her cries became higher and her breathing more ragged. She collapsed on Jacob's chest as the muscles in her body contracted and exploded. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over, pinning her beneath him. With a few more quick thrusts, his own climax washed over him and he groaned with the release.

Jacob rolled off of Rachel and gathered her in his arms. Brushing the hair from her face, he gently kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I was so late…" he began.

Rachel put a hand over his mouth. "Um, tomorrow?" She snuggled closer, "I have to get up by 5:00 so no more talking? Ok?"

Jacob licked her palm.

"No more of that either." She reached down and grabbed his hand that had begun stroking her hip. "I mean it. I'm exhausted."

"Why do you have to get up so early? We don't need to leave until 7:30; surely it doesn't take you two and a half hours to get ready?"

Irritation shot through Rachel. Levering herself up on an elbow she glared at him. "I leave here at 7:00 _not _7:30 in order to drop Isaac off at daycare _and_ make it to my office before 8:30. And yes, it does take me damn near two hours to shower, dress, give Isaac his bottle and some cereal and then grab something for myself."

"Bottle? Why did you stop breastfeeding? I thought…."

"Yes Jacob, a bottle." Rachel interrupted. "I decided to wean my son early despite the many benefits of breastfeeding because I missed my morning cup of coffee." Fumbling in the sheets for her discarded camisole and shorts, she quickly pulled them on. Rolling to the other side of the bed she yanked the sheets up. "Good night."

Jacob lay back in bed, contemplating Rachel's outburst. Alex had said Rachel was under a lot of pressure and it appeared she was correct. He waited until her even breathing told him she had fallen back to sleep. He reached over and turned off her alarm, determined that for one morning, at least, Rachel would have the help she needed. Gathering her into his arms carefully, he fell soon asleep.

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Rachel slowly came awake enjoying the feel of Jacob's arms around her. She felt slightly guilty for snapping at him last night. She knew he hadn't meant to sound judgmental; after all, she had been careful not to share with him the frustrations she experienced trying to adjust to being essentially a single working mother in a demanding profession. He would only have felt guilty and it wasn't as if he was absent on purpose. Lifting her hand she rubbed the stubble on Jacob's cheek. She was rewarded when he turned his face and kissed her palm.

"Good morning sweetheart. Sleep well?"

"Umm," Rachel purred. "Much better." She snuggled into Jacob wondering how long she had before her alarm went off; she smiled thinking of how she could make up for her harsh words. Levering herself up on her elbow, she looked at the clock; it was almost six a.m. Her good mood vanished instantly.

"Damn it Jacob, did you turn my alarm off?"

"Uh huh, I thought…."

"You thought what? That's we'd spend the morning in bed? Goddamn it, didn't it occur to you I've got a schedule? A very tight schedule and you can't just waltz in here and disrupt it."

As she was talking Rachel scrambled out of bed grabbing for her robe. "I've got to be showered and dressed before the baby wakes up. He's always up right around six; I won't even get my shower in now."

As if on cue, a babbling began to issue from the monitor on the dresser. Rachel closed her eyes and swore. "Fuck. I can't believe this, I've got a killer day ahead of me and now I'm going to be running behind the whole goddamn day." She opened her eyes and glared at Jacob, "I can't believe you were so selfish."

Jacob got out of the bed and faced Rachel, his hands on her shoulders. "I wasn't being selfish and I'm not disrupting your schedule, I'm re-arranging it. Since you're not breastfeeding, I figured I could take care of feeding Isaac while you showered and dressed."

The two of them stood staring at each other for a second or two before Rachel's shoulder's slumped.

"I'm sorry baby," she murmured. "I guess I'm so used to Isaac being my responsibility …"

"Hush, it's my fault. I shouldn't have turned your alarm off without telling you. Sweetheart," Jacob tipped her face up, "I know I've let you down, but trust me, you're not alone in this, not anymore." His lips twitched, "at least not today." He nudged her in the direction of the bathroom. "Go ahead, get ready for your killer day."

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Rachel was feeling much calmer as she entered the kitchen. For the first time in six weeks she hadn't felt pressured to shower and dress in record time. She smiled at the sight of Jacob, propped against the kitchen counter his attention divided between the infant in his arms, happily sucking on his bottle, and Terrance who was slicing a loaf of bread to Jacob's specifications.

"Good morning, it looks like you have everything under control."

"Almost." He handed her the baby. "Why don't you finish giving Isaac his bottle and I'll make your breakfast."

"Don't bother, usually I only have a cup of coffee and some toast."

"Ummm." Jacob looked disapproving, at this evidence that Rachel wasn't taking proper care of herself. "Well I'm still making French toast and bacon." He figured she'd eat it if it was placed in front of her.

In the guise of trying to integrate himself into Rachel's normal routine, Jacob carefully questioned her about her day. He was disturbed to see how little of Isaac's care she was willing to delegate. On days when she didn't have a lunch meeting, Rachel would spend that time in the daycare center feeding Isaac, playing with him, or reading him a story. She'd then send her administrative assistant out to get her a sandwich she's wolf down at her desk.

He set a plate of food in front of her and reclaimed the baby. As he expected, she dug in without further complaint. Putting Isaac in his highchair, Jacob began feeding him cereal while continuing his interrogation. In between spoonful's of cereal, he asked seemingly random questions about the matters Rachel had been dealing with at work. It was clear to him she had a full plate both at work and at home. How full her plate was became painfully clear to him when Alex entered the kitchen with a black and white cocktail dress in her arms.

"Here you go," Alex announced. "I was able to fix the seam after you went to bed."

"Oh Alex, thanks so much." Rachel looked up from her breakfast and smiled gratefully. "I wasn't looking forward to spending my lunch hour shopping for a dress for tonight."

"Tonight?" Jacob frowned. "You're going out tonight?"

Distracted by examining the dress, Rachel merely nodded and murmured in agreement. Jacob's lips tightened. "Can't you cancel? I mean, honestly Rachel, it's my first night home in weeks, I had thought we'd …"

Rachel looked up, a frown creasing her face. "No, I can't cancel. This is a work thing. It's a dinner in honor of the Director of National Intelligence. All of the Agents in Charge in my branch have been invited." Her lips curved up at the look of disappointment on Jacob's face. "You were invited too, I'll have my admin call and make sure you're added to the guest list." She titled her head, thinking, "you better make sure your tux is pressed and you have a clean dress shirt."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave Isaac here today?" Alex asked. "I'd be happy to babysit." She picked Isaac up and began to nuzzle his neck. "Or are you afraid I'll steal him away from you?"

"There is that." Rachel agreed with a laugh. "Thanks, but I'll have more time with him this way. Since you've solved my dress problem, I can see him at lunchtime and give him his dinner before we head off for the evening." Glancing at her watch she grimaced. "Speaking of time, we have to run." She shot a look at Jacob, who was still in his sleep pants and t-shirt. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Uh, yeah." He tipped his head back to look up at her. "Why don't you let Terrance and me bring Isaac in and drop him off at the daycare later?" At Rachel's doubtful expression he raised an eyebrow. "I think between the two of us we can get one baby safely delivered to the Hoover Building." He stood and kissed her on the forehead. "Besides, this way you can be ahead instead of behind all day."

With a smile Rachel agreed. She collected her things and exchanged keys with Terrance. He would drive her SUV with its car seat. Looking remarkable more relaxed than she had in weeks Rachel left for work, for once not worried about how she was going to juggle her responsibilities.

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After Rachel left Jacob maneuvered to get his sister alone. This took a while since she had her own child to feed and get off to school, but he was determined to find out as much as he could about how things had been going in his absence. He belatedly realized he couldn't trust the reports he had been receiving from Rachel, she had obviously been shielding him.

He felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut when he found out Rachel had been ill and he hadn't even known. Her many time-consuming meetings, in various locations in DC, had led to an irregular pumping schedule, which, combined with a baby who was a fussy nurser, led to a serious bout of mastitis. Her doctor had recommended she abandon breastfeeding.

In addition, Rachel was working late almost every night. Since she was determined she would feed Isaac his dinner and put him to bed herself, they spent most nights at the apartment in the city. The only time Alex was able to give her any meaningful relief was on the weekends; even then Rachel was reluctant to, as she put it, shirk her responsibilities. Jacob grimaced; he should have remembered how proud, how independent Rachel was. How she hated to admit when she needed help.

Jacob was disturbed to realize in the weeks he had been gone Rachel's life had consisted of work, childcare, and then more work. Sitting thoughtfully at the kitchen table, he decided that for one night, at least, Rachel was going to get a break in her routine.

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As she took a quick shower, Rachel reflected on how much smoother her day gone with Jacob there. It was a relief to know she didn't have to do everything herself. While Alex was always willing to help, Rachel felt slightly guilty asking her for more than a minimal amount of assistance. After all, Isaac was her responsibility, hers and Jacobs. And Jacob had cheerfully and skillfully assumed responsibility today.

Since his day was much more flexible than hers, he had not only dropped Isaac off at the daycare center, he had also gone out and bought a picnic lunch. The three of them had eaten in the little park across from the Hoover Building. It was the most relaxing lunch hour she had spent since she had come back from maternity leave. Then at 5:00 o'clock, he had shown up in her office, Isaac in arms, and firmly insisted the few matters left on her desk could easily wait. As she carefully applied her make-up and did her hair, she hoped it would be awhile before Jacob was called out of town.

Wrapping herself in her robe, she walked into the kitchen of their DC apartment where Jacob was carefully spooning cereal into his son's mouth. "Your turn."

"I'm almost done. I can finish up here."

"No, let me finish while you go get ready. That way we'll … What's that?" Rachel spied a small box wrapped in silver paper with a white bow on the high chair's tray table.

"I don't know," Jacob shrugged. "Isaac put it there. I guess you'll have to open it."

"Isaac did, did he?" Rachel picked up the box, amused. She opened the card tucked in the ribbon. "For mommy on her birthday." She gave a small huff of laughter. "I'm impressed with his handwriting, but his timing's off; my birthday isn't until next week."

Jacob smiled and kept spooning in cereal as Rachel tore the wrapping paper off the small box. She gave a small gasp of surprise as she opened it, revealing a pair of pearl and onyx drop earrings.

"Jacob, baby, they're beautiful. Thank you."

"I told you, they're from Isaac, you should thank him."

"From Isaac, hmm. For some reason I think he might have had a little help."

"I did give him an advance on his allowance."

Rachel gave Jacob a quick hug. "It must have been a hell of an advance. I love them." She took the spoon from his hand. "Now you go get ready."

By the time Jacob had showered, shaved, and put on his tux Rachel had not only finished feeding Isaac, but she had him given him a sponge bath, changed his diaper and dressed him in a sleeper covered with dinosaurs. He took over, allowing Rachel to finish dressing. Rocking Isaac, he gave him his bedtime bottle. The doorbell rang as he as he was preparing to burp the baby. His brow creased as the doorbell rang a second time. Normally, Terrance would ring the bell once, as a courtesy, before letting himself into the apartment. Since no one had called from the security desk in the lobby, Jacob wondered who it could be.

He cautiously approached the door and peered through the peephole. He smiled as he recognized the young woman in the hallway. It was the babysitter, otherwise known as Rachel's new administrative assistant. Rachel told him the young woman often came to the apartment with her so they could work over dinner. Since her name was already on the list of accepted visitors, the doormen hadn't bothered to announce her.

"Jenna, good evening, please come in."

The young woman swallowed almost audibly as she took in the man before her. His hair was damply curling and his face smoothly shaved. He was dressed in a crisp white dress shirt with a bow tie and his black tuxedo pants were held up with suspenders. _'Shit and I thought he was gorgeous this afternoon when he was all scruffy.'_

She belated realized he was holding the baby against a towel thrown over his shoulder. "Oh, Dr. Hood, you should let me do that. You don't want to risk him throwing up on your shirt."

Jacob looked down at the baby quizzically. "Would you do that to me young man?"

"Trust me, they always throw up on you when it's most inconvenient."

Jenna jumped at the voice directly behind her. Jacob looked amused. "Sounds like you have some firsthand experience Terrance."

Terrance came in closing the door behind him. "Yeah, I've got a bunch of nieces and nephews. And believe me, they know instinctively when you're wearing your last clean shirt." He checked his watch, "is SAC Young ready sir? If we don't leave now we may be late."

"I'm not quite ready." Rachel came into the room fastening her earrings. "I still need to put Isaac down for the night."

Jacob took one look at Rachel and absently thrust the baby into Jenna's arms. He crossed the room and put his hands on her shoulders. "You look beautiful."

The dress she wore was a vintage 1950's cocktail dress. The bodice was a stiff black taffeta, cut high on her neck, with a halter top that left her shoulders and upper back bare. While it revealed no cleavage, the tailoring clearly outlined the curves of her breasts. The full organdy skirt, with alternating panels of black and white, fell below her knees but drew attention to her slender waist. The dress was modest enough for an official function but still made Rachel look extremely sexy.

Jacob titled her face up but before he could kiss her, he heard a loud cough behind him. "We really do need to leave now."

Rachel broke away from Jacob to frown at Terrance. "I told you, I have to put Isaac down."

Terrance rolled his eyes and then made a show out of checking his watch. Jacob stopped Rachel before she could take the baby away from Jenna.

"I'm sure Jenna will manage." He raised an eyebrow to check Rachel's response. "And I'm sure occasionally being put to bed by someone other than his mother will not damage Isaac irretrievably."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rachel allowed herself to be hustled from the apartment. They arrived at the Willard Hotel without incident to Terrance's relief. Looking around Jacob realized the truth of Alex's statement Rachel did indeed work in a man's world. There was only one other woman there who was not an accompanying spouse.

Despite his dislike of formal gatherings, Jacob found he was actually enjoying himself. This was his first event as an attending spouse; he discovered once people in the intelligence community realized he was nothing more than an appendage, they lost interest in him. He was free to discuss children, schools, and the latest unofficial gossip with the other spouses.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The post-dinner speeches were over and people were beginning to filter out of the ballroom. As they reached the lobby of the hotel, Jacob pulled Rachel aside.

"Why don't we have a nightcap? Isaac's in good hands, we don't need to rush."

"I don't know," Rachel asked doubtfully. "Don't you think we should get home?"

"Rachel, it's not like we have a teenage babysitter with a midnight curfew." He smiled at her coaxingly. "We should take advantage of having a bit of time to ourselves."

Smiling Rachel agreed. Taking his hand, she turned toward the bar off the lobby.

"Uh, I'll meet you inside in a minute." At Rachel's quizzical look he raised an eyebrow. "Restroom."

He waited until Rachel entered the bar. Turning he motioned Terrance to one side. "Is everything all set?"

Terrance nodded, handing over a hotel keycard. "Yep, I put your bag in the room and alerted Jenna you and SAC Young won't be home tonight. She offered to stay over, but I told her I'm good to go with spending the night with Isaac. We'll pick you two up tomorrow at 10:00 a.m."

Jacob nodded in satisfaction. He his idea to surprise Rachel with a romantic night in the famed hotel was working out as planned. He had spent the afternoon making the arrangements, shopping not only for the earrings but another, more personal present, as well. Knowing her fondness for sexy nightgowns, he was sure Rachel would love the confection of silk and lace he had selected for her. He thanked Terrance for his part in making sure things went smoothly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jacob paused at the entrance to the bar, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Glancing around the almost deserted room Jacob spied Rachel sitting alone at the bar, a glass of cognac in front of her. She was chatting easily with the bartender. With a small smile, Jacob approached her.

Before she could greet him, he placing a hand on the stool beside her. "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Rachel looked momentarily startled. Then her eyes lit with amusement. Looking around ostentatiously, she replied, "I don't think so, please, feel free to join me."

Jacob slid into the seat and flicked his eyes to the bartender. "A single malt, 18 years old, no ice." He returned his attention to Rachel. He held out his hand, "I'm Jacob, by the way."

"Rachel."

Taking the hand she offered, he brought it to his lips. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Do you come here often?"

"No, I'm here tonight professionally, you might say I'm a working girl. How about you?"

"A working girl, huh," Jacob's lips quivered at the double entendre. "I'm here for a work too, a boring dinner party."

"Oh, a political dinner?"

"Uh, no, a collection of spooks"

Rachel widened her eyes. "Ohhh, are you a spy?"

Jacob reached out and placed his fingers across her lips. "Shh, if I told you …"

"You'd have to kill me?"

"Umm, and that would be such a waste of such a lovely lady."

"Funny, you don't look like a spy."

"Well, not a spy really, but I do hush-hush work for the FBI."

Jacob picked up the glass the bartender had slid in front of him. "Well, cheers."

The two kept up their game, bantering and flirting with each other. Rachel teasing Jacob for details of his "secret missions," while he made up outrageous adventures. Rachel, her drink finished, reached out to capture Jacob's hand. She turned his wrist to check out his watch.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, it is getting late."

Jacob pulled the keycard out of his pocket and slid it on the bar in front of her. "We don't really have to leave."

"You got a room?"

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then slid his hand to cup her cheek. "Uh-huh, we can," he winked and rubbed his thumb across her lips, "continue our conversation upstairs."

With a laugh, Rachel picked up the card. "What a very good idea."

Jacob pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. Looking at the bartender, who was hovering nearby, he requested not only his own tab, but the one for the lady as well. Hand and hand they left the bar, the bartender looking after them speculatively.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The doors to the elevator had no sooner closed when Jacob pulled Rachel against his chest. His one arm was around her waist, pulling her tight against him, while his other hand cupped her breasts. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and nipping at her throat and ear. "God, Rachel, you look so damned sexy in this dress. You can't believe how hard it's been for me to keep my hands off you until now."

Rachel titled her head, laying it against his shoulder. "Jacob, baby, you do realize they have security cameras in these elevators?"

"Yeah? Well, I'm sure if they're watching they think you look damned sexy too."

With a small giggle, Rachel twisted in Jacob's arms. Putting her arms around his neck, she ran her hands through his hair, pulling him into a passionate kiss. "With any luck, they don't monitor them in real time."

They kept kissing and touching each other until the elevator stopped on their floor. They stumbled down the hall, stopping occasionally to lean against the wall when a kiss became especially all consuming. When they reached the door to their room, Jacob crowded Rachel into the doorway, kissing the back of her neck as she attempted to open the door. They practically fell into the room when Rachel finally got it open.

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_Two weeks later_

Jenna Sawyer stared at the envelope on the desk, chewing her lip, uncertain of what to do. When she had come to work for SAC Young, she had been surprised to find one of her duties was to deal with Dr. Hood's mail when he was in the field. SAC Young was very clear about how she was to handle it.

She was to open anything addressed to Dr. Hood and place it into one of four categories. Requests for assistance from the Special Science Advisor were sent to the Director's office for evaluation. Speaking requests, or anything of an academic nature, went to SAC Young. Crank letters were thrown away. Any letter that could remotely be considered a threat was to be hand delivered to Detail Chief McGruder. But this letter was different. For the first time, envelope addressed to Dr. Hood also carried the words _personal and confidential_. Jenna was unsure if she should open this one or not. She was relieved when SAC Young entered the office.

"Umm, ma'am? I'm not sure what to do with this letter for Dr. Hood."

Rachel looked up from the file she had been reading. She was surprised by Jenna's question; the young woman had been working for her since she had come back from her maternity leave. Jenna was a quick study who never asked the same question twice.

"Why, who's it from? What do they want?"

"I'm not sure," Jenna replied hesitantly. She handed the manila envelope to Rachel. "It's marked personal and confidential."

Her curiosity aroused, Rachel took the letter-opener from Jenna's desk to slit the envelope open. It contained several black and white photos and another letter, sealed inside a plain white envelope. Jacob's name was on the inner envelope as well.

A faint blush stained Rachel's cheeks as she flipped through the photos. They were pictures of her and Jacob and they were obviously taken from the security footage at the Willard Hotel. There were two pictures of them in the elevator; one of them kissing and one where Jacob was fondling her breasts. There were also pictures of them kissing in the hallway and one where Jacob had her pinned against the door to their hotel room.

Placing the photos face down on Jenna's desk; Rachel slit open the second envelope. Her mouth tightened as she read the letter it contained. Jenna looked alarmed, wondering what was upsetting Agent Young so badly. After she had read through the letter twice, Rachel stood for a second, a grim look on her face as she marshaled her thoughts.

"Jenna, get on the phone with the Director's office. Tell them I'm on my way up and I need to see him on a matter of national security."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I think I discovered the source of the leaks," Rachel announced as the door closed behind her.

Frank looked up quizzically. He knew what she was referring to. During the last few months sensitive information had been getting into the wrong hands. What was so puzzling was the variety of things being leaked; it wasn't as if there was a mole or a problem in one department. Information from a variety of federal agencies was going astray . It had finally come to the attention of All-Sec; a group of representatives from the many agencies tasked with protecting the security of the country. Rachel was the FBI's representative and this matter had been at the head of its agenda at the last weekly meeting. She had alerted him to the problem soon afterward.

Rachel handed him the letter; he drew his breath in sharply as he read it. He looked up at her, compassion in his eyes. "Uh, look, Rachel, I know this looks bad, but surely those pictures were faked, Photoshopped. I mean, Jacob…." He trailed off, surprised by the sudden look of amusement on her face.

"I'm afraid the pictures are all too real," she said wryly. She handed the photos to Frank. "I am _so_ not looking forward to having to share these with those guys in the All-Sec group."

As he flipped through the pictures, Frank couldn't keep a grin off his face. "Well," he said finally, fighting to keep a straight face. "I'm glad to see the honeymoon isn't over." He burst out laughing. "I've gotta say," he teased, "I never figured Jacob as the kind of guy…"

Rachel cleared her throat loudly. "Well, yeah." Her cheeks colored faintly. "We, uh, were celebrating my birthday."

Grinning, Frank returned to studying the pictures. He frowned suddenly, "Wait, isn't that the dress you wore to the dinner for the DNI? Where and when were these pictures taken?"

Nodding, Rachel confirmed his guess. "They were taken that night, at the Willard. Like I said, we were celebrating my birthday. Jacob arranged for an overnight sitter and booked us a room." She looked at Frank, all amusement wiped from her face. "But I think this is how the information is being leaked, someone is looking for blackmail opportunities at official functions. I need to bring this letter to the attention of All-Sec immediately," she hesitated. "I think it might be a good idea for you to attend the meeting, to make sure they take this matter seriously." She grimaced, "it might be hard for me to run the meeting once they get a look at those pictures."

"I see your point." Frank paused, "but I do have a question. Why did this blackmailer assume you're a, uh, well, prostitute? You know the group is going to ask."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Rachel dimpled. "You can blame Jacob's sense of humor. Remember how he had been on the road for six weeks straight?"

Frank nodded.

"Well, I made a joke about not recognizing him." She grinned, she didn't think she should share with her boss exactly where and when the joke had been made. "Jacob's idea of payback was pretending we were strangers when he joined me in the bar and I, well, I decided to play along." She shrugged, "whoever is behind these pictures must have assumed I was some woman Jacob picked up for sex."

"That bit might be best left out of the discussion," Frank said, shaking his head. "Set up the meeting; make it clear it's high priority and needs to happen ASAP."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm sure I don't have to remind anyone what we say in this room goes no further," Frank Fuller announced.

Seated around the conference table were the members of the All-Sec group; representatives of the CIA, the National Security Agency, and the Department of Homeland Security. Representatives from the State and Justice Departments had also been invited; those agencies having been the main source of the leaks.

"I know you've all been concerned," he continued, "about the amount of sensitive information getting into the hands of the wrong people. We've all been conducting separate investigations and they haven't gotten very far. Well today, we may have had a break."

The representative from the NSA looked skeptical. "What kind of a break?"

"I'll leave it to SAC Young to explain." Frank nodded toward Rachel who was standing at the head of the table. "She's the one who brought this matter to my attention. Agent Young."

"Thank you sir. Two weeks ago, Dr. Hood, the Special Science Advisor of the FBI, attended a dinner held at the Willard Hotel honoring the Director of National Intelligence."

Around the room heads nodded, several of these people had also attended the dinner.

"Today, a letter, along with some pictures of Dr. Hood," Rachel's lips twitched, "that might be termed embarrassing, were delivered to him here at the Hoover Building. What I'm handing out is a photostat of the letter."

"Where's the original?" the man from the CIA interrupted.

"At our lab, they're testing the letter and the envelope for latents and any other identifying information." Rachel responded. "We believe this letter may be the key as to how this information is being leaked."

She paused as everyone read the letter she had handed out.

'_Dear Dr. Hood,' _the letter read, _'I hope you enjoy the pictures of you and your charming companion. For some reason, I don't feel your superiors at the FBI would be pleased to learn a man with your security clearance has been sharing pillow talk with a woman of, shall we say, questionable virtue? I suggest you call me at 703-555-2409 to discuss this situation.'_ There was silence in the room as everyone digested the contents of the letter. Then the questions came, fast and furious.

"Did Hood give you the letter voluntarily? Are you sure he only got it today?"

"Do you think Hood has already leaked intel?"

"Have you traced the phone number?"

"Where is Dr. Hood? Why isn't he here and what does he have to say for himself?"

Rachel patiently addressed the group. The letter was delivered today. Since Dr. Hood was in the field, his mail was being dealt with by an administrative assistant; it had been brought to her attention immediately. They hadn't requested he attend the meeting, the situation he was dealing with was delicate and a matter of national security. And despite what the letter implied, they were positive there was no leak. As for the phone, it was a burner cell, purchased from a convenience store in Dupont Circle. There was no way to trace it further.

"How about the pictures? Have you isolated the woman, run her image through facial recognition software? If we could find out who she's working for it would be a major step forward." The man from the CIA leaned forward, she was clearly skeptical about Rachel's assurances no harm had yet been done.

A ghost of a smile passed over Frank's face. "There's no need. We already know who she works for." He looked at Rachel with raised eyebrows. "You're gonna have to show them the pictures sooner or later."

Rachel nodded her head, a small grimace twisting her lips. She wasn't going to find this pleasant. She knew these men had a tendency to discount her opinions, to downplay her contributions to any discussion. She had carefully kept her private life from them, she didn't want them to use her childcare responsibilities or marital status as ammunition against her. She felt instinctively if they knew her husband was a close friend of the director they would assume she only obtained her position through his influence.

Opening the folder in front of her she leafed through the pictures. Frowning slightly, she slid one photo under the folder; the remainders down the table. Eager hands reached out to retrieve them. There was a moment of startled silence as heads swiveled toward her and more than one mouth dropped open.

The representative for the State Department cleared his throat nervously. "Err, SAC Young, these seem to be pictures of you and Dr. Hood, um, making out. Why did the letter imply he was with a, er, a prostitute?"

"I believe Dr. Hood was tagged by the bartender as a suitable candidate for blackmail. He must have misunderstood our conversation."

"I don't understand," the man persisted. "How in the world could he have thought…?"

"I think," Frank interrupted, "whatever SAC Young and her _husband_ get up to in their private lives is not relevant here. The only thing that matters is this blackmail attempt, misguided as it is, is a credible lead into these leaks."

"Her husband?" squeaked the man from State. Once again heads swiveled in Rachel's direction and mouths dropped open.

"If you ask me, it's proof we're not dealing with whoever is behind these leaks." The man from the CIA tossed away the photo in his hand dismissively. "Too many mistakes have been made. They send the letter here without making any attempt at insuring he's the one to receive it, open it." He flicked finger at the pictures, "then for Christ's sake, they send pictures of him and his _wife_." He sneered at Rachel. "It's obviously a clumsy, amateurish attempt at blackmail." There was a murmur of agreement.

Rachel stuck her chin out stubbornly. "I disagree. They did make an attempt to insure he would be the one to open the letter. It was marked personal and confidential. Targeting Dr. Hood was a mistake, but it was only because he lives such a private life. Whoever is behind this would have to look long and hard to discover not only that he's married, but married to me. I don't use his name professionally and we don't lead the kind of social life that gets our names or pictures in the paper." She shrugged, "whoever was behind those pictures has a lot of people in his pocket. And that kind of assistance doesn't come cheap."

"What assistance? Someone with a cell phone could have snapped those pictures." the CIA agent scoffed.

"Trust me, there was no one with a cell phone anywhere near us." Rachel's tone was frosty. "Those pictures were taken in an elevator and a hallway at the Willard, we were quite alone. No, whoever is responsible for sending those pictures, letter, has quite a few employees of the hotel, maybe other hotels in the city, on their payroll."

The man from Homeland Security seemed to be taking Rachel and the situation seriously. "How many people are you talking about?"

Rachel began ticking off possibilities on her fingers. "The bartender for sure. He was the only one who could have overhead what we were saying to each other, who knew Jacob was not only an FBI employee, but one with a high security clearance." She flushed slightly, "Plus, the assumption I was a prostitute had to come from him. Then someone with access to the security footage; there's no other way they could have gotten those pictures. And someone either from the front desk or the accounting department; someone who could confirm the name from the billing information. I doubt the bartender recognized him."

"Are you sure?" someone objected. "Maybe he used a credit card in the bar."

Rachel rolled her eyes. Even with the evidence right in front of them, they refused to acknowledge she might know what she was talking about. "No, we each only had the one drink, paid for them with cash.

She looked around the room. "When you put it all together, it really is genius. You pay a bunch of hotel employees for information that's embarrassing but not sensitive, nothing that would seem like a security risk. Nothing to make them think they're doing anything really wrong. Shit, people sell stuff like this to the tabloids all the time; I'm sure the staff is used to turning a blind eye to a lot of stuff."

"I think her theory has merit. It's one of the few scenarios that makes any sense."

Everyone in the room scrambled to their feet, except for Frank Fuller. They had been so intent on the pictures, the conversation; they hadn't realized the Director of National Intelligence had entered the room. Frank nodded to the newcomer.

"I agree Warren. I think we've been handed a major break here."

The Director took a seat at the table, gathered up the pictures and a copy of the letter. Pursing his lips he read the letter, flipped through the pictures several times. He looked at Rachel with open amusement on his face; she braced herself for his remarks.

"It's nice to see Dr. Hood's many absences aren't interfering with your happy marriage." He winked at her, "or would it be more accurate to say his many absences enhance your happy marriage?"

"Uh, yes sir." Rachel hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt.

Taking pity on her, the Director brought the conversation back to business. "Well Frank, I'd say it's only fair since the FBI brought us this break, the FBI take the lead role in the investigation." He looked around the table with raised eyebrows, "as I'm sure we all agree."

The others looked rebellious, but they had no choice but to nod their heads.

The Director continued, "And while I have no authority to dictate your staffing." He grinned at Frank who acknowledged his point with wave of his hand, "I'd suggest you put Young here in charge of the task force."

"Excellent idea, Warren." Frank turned to Rachel. "What's the first step? Should we bring in the bartender for questioning?"

"Not yet, sir." Rachel was decisive. "He's a little fish. Bringing him in will only alert the ones higher up in the food chain we're on to them."

"What do you suggest?" the Director asked.

Rachel's lips curved up. "We're going to let Dr. Hood be blackmailed."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I don't understand," Jacob looked from the pictures in his hands up at Frank and Rachel. "I mean, how can I be blackmailed over pictures of me kissing my wife?"

"I dunno Jacob," Frank, grinning openly, leaned down and plucked one of the pictures from the stack Jacob was holding. "Looks like you're doing more than kissing her in this one."

Jacob grabbed the photo back, a blush staining his cheeks. "I think you're a little out of line," he snapped. "I don't make remarks about what you and Karen….."

"Could we please get back on task," Rachel asked through gritted teeth. "As I've been trying to explain, whoever sent them assumes you'll go to some lengths to keep their existence from the eyes of the Bureau. We need you to make the call, to find out exactly what they want from you."

"Oh come on, Rachel," Jacob protested. "I can't believe this. I mean, even if they weren't pictures of us, how damaging are they really? Ok, so I picked up a woman in the bar," he smirked a bit. "That's more your business than the FBI's. Why should they care?"

Frank and Rachel exchanged glances. Frank cleared his throat. "Uh, Jacob, yeah, I'd have a big problem if I thought you were picking up whores in hotel bars." He raised an eyebrow, "and no, it's not because you're a married man. You may not think about it, but you happen to have a damned high security clearance. If you put your mind to it, you could access all kinds of sensitive shit."

Jacob looked taken aback. He had never given his security clearance a second thought. He took it for granted he would have access to the information he needed to solve any problem he investigated. While he realized first Rachel, and now Terrance, kept a close watch on any files they were given, he had never wondered why. If asked, he would have said they didn't want to misplace them. In retrospect, he recognized they were actually keeping the contents of those files secure.

"Ok," he said reluctantly. "What do you need me to do?"

Rachel gave a sigh of relief; Jacob was finally taking the situation seriously. She handed him a cell phone; one specially prepared for him. This phone would automatically record his calls without alerting whomever he was speaking with. It also contained a small, powerful bug. Even when kept in his jacket pocket, it would pick up and transmit his conversations.

Carefully Jacob punched in the phone number specified in the letter. "Yes, this is Dr. Hood; I believe you've been expecting my call?"

As Frank and Rachel monitored the call, Jacob made arrangements to meet with the blackmailer. Rachel had a bad moment when Jacob objected to the location the man proposed. She began waving her arms, trying to signal to him that he should be more agreeable. Jacob pursed his lips and shook his head. The original proposal was to meet in the Constitution Gardens. Jacob objected saying it was too secluded a place. He suggested they meet on the Mall. It was a high traffic area; it wouldn't look odd if anyone noticed him there, unlike the Gardens. The man on the phone, after a brief hesitation, agreed to the change of location. He specified, however, he would call Jacob the next day to set up the exact spot where they would meet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Two days later_

Sitting on a bench on the Mall eating an ice cream cone, Jacob looked around in idle curiosity. To an on-looker he appeared to be a solitary tourist, or perhaps an employee from one of the surrounding museums, enjoying his lunch break. In reality, he was passing the time wondering how many of the people surrounding him were genuine tourists and how many were members of the surveillance team.

He hadn't realized how fierce the inter-agency rivalries were; he had thought all that nonsense had gone out the window after 9/11. He had been especially amused by how disgruntled the CIA member of the task force had been when he realized he would be relegated to a watching brief. Rachel had been rather gleeful when she had informed the man under federal law he was ineligible to take part in this action. Jacob stiffened briefly when a man, also eating an ice cream cone, sat down on the other end of his bench. He flashed a small smile at the man, but relaxed when his slight overture was ignored.

Finishing his ice cream, Jacob took a quick look at his watch. He frowned; it was almost ten minutes past the time the blackmailer had specified for the meeting. He wondered if the man had changed his mind, if he suspected he was being set up. He glanced at his watch again, deciding he would wait ten more minutes.

"I would have expected a world-class scientist to be more patient." The man at the other side of the bench chuckled. "But after your performance the other night and now today, I am obviously mistaken."

Jacob immediately recognized the voice as belonging to the man on the phone. He studied him thoughtfully for a few moments. The man was non-descript; medium build, medium coloring, and judging from how he sat on the bench, most likely medium height. He was also wearing oversized sunglasses which hid most of his face. Jacob doubted he'd be able to accurately describe him later.

"What you lack in patience you seem to make up for in caution," the man continued, looking around approvingly. "It's a very good meeting place, we must use it often."

"I chose this place for my convenience, not out of caution," Jacob answered coolly. At the man's raised eyebrows, he continued. "I didn't see why I should go out of my way to let you know you've made a mistake." His lips twitched. "My meeting you is a courtesy, I was tempted to ignore your letter."

"That would have been a mistake."

"Why?" Jacob shrugged. "So you have pictures of my indulging in some, uh, public displays of affection with my, uh, date. Who cares?"

"Don't be naïve," the man shook his head gently. "You know as well as I do, your superiors at the Bureau would take a dim view of a man with your security clearance consorting with known prostitutes. Ask the boys at the Secret Service if you doubt me."

"She's hardly a prostitute; she was my date for the evening."

"A date you picked up in the bar after the dinner was over? No, she was a prostitute."

"I still say you're making a mistake." Jacob raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a wealthy man; I can't afford to pay you much for those pictures."

The man smiled inwardly. The fact Hood went from denial to negotiating terms so quickly meant he was well aware of the threat those pictures were to his career.

"You have something much more valuable to me than money, Dr. Hood. You have access."

Jacob took a quick breath. He realized they had reached the point in the conversation Rachel had carefully outlined for him how to proceed. Any suggestion he provide sensitive information as payment of the blackmail could not come from him. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to put this bastard in jail as he deserved.

"Access? I don't know what you mean." Jacob gave a small huff of laughter. "I'm the Special Science Advisor for the FBI. I investigate abuses of science."

"Don't be coy. I understand you were once a candidate for the Nobel Prize in Physics. I'm sure you know exactly what I mean."

Jacob cocked his head. "I'm sorry, I'm not being coy. I don't have access to anything special. There's nothing secret about my work."

"I'm sure you're being modest, I've checked, you have an exceedingly high security clearance."

"Well, yes, but that's just a formality, to allow me to investigate as I see fit. I only have access to what I need to do my work."

The man smiled faintly, maybe this Hood was naïve. "That may have been true forty years ago, but not now. Everything is computerized. You have to be aware your security clearance gives you the authority to access to a wide variety of FBI resources."

"Well, yeah," Jacob shrugged. "Theoretically…."

"There's nothing theoretical about it," the man snapped. "And unless you get me the information I request, you are going to regret it."

"What do you mean?"

"I assume you enjoy your position with the FBI. Your cooperation will assure you are allowed to continue to do so. I already know how you pay me for my benevolence. The counter-terrorism division of the FBI has been developed a new security plan for American embassies located abroad I want a copy of that plan."

"I can't do that." Jacob protested.

The man stood and smiled unpleasantly. "I suggest you try. I expect to hear from you shortly. Either you have a copy of the plans within the week or those pictures go straight to the director of the FBI ." Turning, he walked off quickly and was soon lost in the crowd.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I don't understand," Jacob protested. "Why didn't you arrest him? I got him to say all the right things."

The members of the task force rolled their eyes. Now he had completed his part in the sting, they couldn't understand why Young was letting her husband hang around. Several of them shot Rachel annoyed looks.

Rachel responded soothingly. "We needed to follow him, see who he was in contact with."

"Why? You should pull him in, now. I'm sure you'll be able to convince him to tell you what he knows."

"Because your little wifey doesn't have enough for a decent interrogation," snapped the man from the CIA, "right now he could claim the whole thing's a joke. After all, how do you blackmail a man with pictures of him making out with his wife." He looked at Jacob witheringly, "how do you expect us to break him? Waterboard him?"

Jacob bristled at his insult of Rachel. "I'm sorry, but when did the CIA become so concerned about human rights violations? Or even basic human decency?"

"Now Jacob," Rachel chided, "that was uncalled for." Her rebuke was spoiled by the smirk she couldn't keep from her face. She turned to the others. "How has the trace gone with the other leaks? Have any of you been able to tie any of them to functions held at hotels?"

"Yeah, it turned out you called it," the man from the NSA was grim. "I have to admit, I didn't buy your theory. But I decided to trace back one of the more obscure leaks, investigate everyone who had access." He looked around the table. "One of the four people who had that intel were present at a fundraiser held at the Fairfax. We're holding off questioning him about the blackmail; if he is he might get desperate and tip the bastard off."

Rachel nodded; gratified at least some of the men were now taking her and her theories seriously. She turned to her colleague from Homeland Security who had been tasked with following the blackmailer after his encounter with Jacob.

"Did our blackmailer do anything interesting after he left the Mall?"

"You better believe it. First thing he did was head off to Embassy Row. He dropped in for about a half hour or so at the missions for both Sudan and the Cote d'Ivoire."

Heads snapped up at the mention of two countries that were suspected of harboring terrorists.

"Then he headed straight home. We caught a break though. He had the sunglasses off when he left the Sudan mission and we were able to get a clear picture of him. The super in the building ID'ed him, his name is Richard Valero. The super also let us into the empty apartment right under his; we've not only got eyes, we've got ears on him too."

"Any record?"

"Yeah, we ran the name and it turns out he has a rap sheet, embezzlement and fraud. We're running his financials now."

Rachel nodded in satisfaction. They were building a solid case against Valero. Once they picked him up they would have enough leverage to make him reveal the extent of his operations. She was about to adjourn the meeting when a cell phone buzzed. It belonged to the CIA agent.

"What?" he asked sharply. His eyes widened and his face showed a mixture of shock and excitement. "You're sure about that? That good a percentage? Ok, yeah, keep me posted."

He ended the call and announced, "we've picked up some interesting chatter. It seems Saif al-Adel is heading for DC. Word is he's in the market for information on U.S. security measures. You realize this changes everything. We need to get to the heart of Valero's organization and we need to do it quickly. If it turns out he's only a middle-man, we might not be able to follow the him and the blackmail material all the way back to his boss. We could lose al-Adel."

For a split second they all sat stunned, this case of blackmail could end in their capturing the head of security for al-Qaeda. Then the room erupted. This was a chance of a lifetime and they needed to act on it now. Most the people in the room thought they should pull Valero in immediately. They looked to Rachel to make the decision, she was, after all, put in charge of this operation by no less than the Director for National Intelligence.

"No," she said slowly, "if we pull him in now and he's working for someone, it would tip them off. We need to find a way to get him to tell us about his operation."

"How? We don't have time to set something up." said the man from Homeland.

"Actually, we have the perfect set-up," Rachel smiled.

The plan she outlined was simple. She would call Valero claiming Hood had tracked her down, accused her of being in on the blackmail scheme. She would tell Valero she had calmed Hood down and persuaded him to pay the blackmail. In exchange, she wanted a cut of the money. She would go on to suggest they team up; by working with her he could get much more effective blackmail material. As a show of good faith, and to prove what she could bring to the table, she would offer to meet with him the next day with a new blackmail subject wrapped up in a nice, neat package. Valero's reaction would go a long way to telling them what they needed to know. If he agreed, it most likely meant he was an independent operator. Plus, since they ears on him, they would be able to monitor any calls he might make; if it turned out he wasn't in charge of this blackmail operation.

The CIA agent looked at her in reluctant admiration. For a plan developed on the spur of the moment, it had an excellent chance of succeeding.

"I'll send my AA out to get a burner cell to make the call," Rachel announced. "That shouldn't take…."

"Here use this one," the CIA agent tossed a cell phone to Rachel. He shrugged as the others looked at him with raised eyebrows. "It's standard procedure at the Agency."

Everyone in the room held their breath as Rachel made her call. It went smoothly; Rachel was able to disarm the man's suspicions. At first he claimed he didn't know what she was talking about, but he quickly changed his tune as he realized Rachel was making a potentially lucrative business offer. He agreed to meet her at lunch the next day to discuss her proposition.

The others around the table nodded their heads approvingly. The only obstacle anyone could see was finding a suitable potential blackmail victim. They needed a legitimate public event and a plausible victim to allay any suspicions Valero might have. Some at the table began to roll their eyes again when Jacob hesitantly began to speak, but they snapped to attention when they realized what he was contributing.

"It's not political," Jacob said slowly, "but the National Science Foundation is sponsoring a dinner tonight honoring the candidates for the Waterman Award."

"What's the Waterman Award," the man from Homeland Security demanded. "Why would that dinner attract the kind of people Valero targets?"

"It's a research grant for scientists under thirty-five." Jacob explained "and the former winners are always invited. A lot of them continue doing research for the government. Some of them," a faint smile touched his lips, "work directly for the government." He raised an eyebrow, "there will be plenty of people there tonight with who work with classified information."

Rachel put into words what they were all thinking. "How do you know that?"

"I was invited." He shrugged. "I'm a former Waterman winner. I declined the invitation but I remembered the dinner's tonight." He added thoughtfully, "and now that I think about it, there are at least three former winners with security clearances as high as mine, or higher."

"Perfect!" Rachel exclaimed. "Someone Valero can Google to prove he's a legit target." She turned to Jacob. "Since you know these guys you can help us pick out an appropriate candidate."

A quick call to the NSF produced a list of those expected at the dinner. Without hesitation, Jacob selected Ian Baird. At thirty-five, he was not only the youngest man on the list, he was also the most likely to agree without asking to many questions. He was known throughout the scientific community as something of a rebel. He made no secret of his impatience with academic traditions and bureaucratic red-tape. More importantly, his latest research was being funded by DARPA.

Jacob felt an adventure like this would be right up his alley.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"This is so cool," Ian grinned at Jacob and Rachel.

Jacob had been right about the man. After making the call, Ian was brought to the Hoover Building to meet with Rachel. He had listened carefully to Rachel's explanations and theories. When he realized exactly what was expected of him that evening, he burst out laughing.

"You mean," he continued, leering at Rachel, "we get to make a sex tape?"

"Don't be offensive," snapped Jacob. "Honestly, Ian, this isn't a game they're playing. You do realize this man is asking me to commit treason? That he plans on selling sensitive government information to terrorists?"

"Oh come on, Jacob, lighten up." Ian protested. "I know this isn't a game, but shit, I mean, it sounds like something out of James Bond." He looked at Rachel mock solemnity. "I fully appreciate the seriousness of the situation and I'm more than willing to do what I can to help." He snickered, "I just never thought I'd be helping my country by letting a hot chick pick me up in a bar."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "And a grateful nation accepts your sacrifice," she said sarcastically. Her cell phone buzzed at that moment. She looked at the display and grimaced. "I have to take this, wait here for me, both of you."

As she left the room, Jacob folded his arms across his chest and glared at Ian. "You need to treat Agent Young with more respect. She's a decorated, highly trained federal agent, not some blond bimbo."

Ian looked at Jacob, exasperated. "Christ Jacob, when did you get such a stick up your ass? You've been hanging around with…"

He was interrupted by the opening of the conference room door. Ian broke off, prepared to greet the very attractive Agent Young with a double entendre. He was surprised to see a black suited FBI agent entering the room with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and a baby in his arms. He was further surprised when Jacob's reaction was to check his watch and utter an exclamation of dismay.

"Damn, I'm sorry Terrance; I didn't realize it was five o'clock already." Jacob held out his arms for the baby.

"That's ok sir. We're ready to go as soon as you are." Terrance replied as he handed Jacob his son.

"Who's this?" Ian asked, poking the baby.

"This is my son Isaac," Jacob's lips twitched and he nodded his head toward Terrance. "And that is Agent Terrance Mason, my FBI handler."

"Cute kid," Ian said dismissively before resuming his complaints to Jacob. "Look, just because I hit on Agent Young doesn't mean I'm not taking this situation seriously. Haven't you ever heard of mixing business with pleasure? And it definitely will be a pleasure to let her get me into a compromising position." He smirked, "I bet we can produce some very blackmail worthy pictures."

Before Jacob could reply, Rachel re-entered the room. Ian moved to intercept her. "Agent Young, or can I call you Rachel? After all, we are going to get to know each other pretty well tonight."

To his chagrin, she ignored him; her attention was caught by the infant in Jacob's arms. He rolled his eyes, he wouldn't have thought a tough federal agent would be gaga over babies. He needed to get Jacob and his kid out of the room so he could embark on a campaign to get the lovely Agent Young into his bed for real and not just for some phony pictures.

"I appreciate your getting me involved in this Jacob, but I think Agent Young and I can take it from here." He looked pointedly at the baby, "isn't it time for you and the kid to head home?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Jacob murmured. He held Isaac out to Rachel. "Kiss mommy good-bye."

"Mommy, you mean, she's, she's your wife?" Ian stammered.

"Yep." Jacob nodded in satisfaction at the look on Ian's face; he wasn't looking quite so cocky. After kissing Rachel, he, Isaac and Terrance headed for home leaving a rather subdued Ian behind.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was shortly before midnight when Rachel finally let herself into their apartment. She was grateful the only light burning was the nightlight in the hallway; Jacob had already gone to bed. She hadn't been looking forward to his questions about her nights' work. She shook her head, remembering the disapproving look on his face when she had stopped home to change for her upcoming encounter with Ian. He hadn't liked the very tight, very short, red dress she had donned for the occasion.

But the dress had done it's work. She had created quite a stir when she walked into the bar of the Mayflower. The Waterman dinner had just ended; Ian, along with a few of the other attendees, had adjourned to the bar to continue to gossip and catch up with the latest news. Ian had followed her directions flawlessly. Rachel was confident no one would have suspected their encounter was anything other than a high-priced call girl picking up a little business in the tony bar.

He was less enthusiastic when it came time to stage the pictures. He blushed when Rachel told him to take off his shirt and pants. He almost became apoplectic when she slipped out of her dress. It was only when she crossly told him if he didn't relax it would take twice as long to get some decent pictures that he began breathing normally. Using the mirror and the time-lapse feature on her small digital camera, Rachel soon had several pictures that seemed to show them in various stages of a sexual encounter.

She slid into bed carefully, trying not to wake Jacob. She gave a small sigh of relief when he stirred only briefly, long enough to gather her into his arms, before falling back asleep. If her plans worked out, they would both be having a busy day tomorrow.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Richie Valero spotted his luncheon companion as soon as he entered the restaurant. He silently congratulated her. In her black and tan dress, with her blond hair pulled back in a chignon and discreet pearls at her ears and throat, she looked like a lobbyist or a lawyer, not a prostitute. He approached her table confidently.

"Hello, Rachel, I believe you're expecting me?" He was amused by the appraising glance she ran over him. "We spoke yesterday, you had a business proposition for me?"

Rachel smiled at the man and extended her hand. "Yes, I think we might be able to join forces very profitably, Mr…?"

"Call me Richie." Valero sat and waited until the waiter was out of earshot. "I'm curious, why do you think you could make my business more profitable?" He smirked a bit. "I'm doing fine working solo, so to speak, why should I consider a partner?"

"What do you mean, so to speak?"

"I've told the staff at a the most exclusive hotels I work for a tabloid, pay them for pictures of the rich and powerful acting indiscreetly." He smiled, "as I'm sure you and our mutual friend discovered."

"Hmm, yes, I figured those pictures came from the security footage. You know, though, you're lucky our friend is so…skittish." Rachel shook her head dismissively. "Those pictures aren't that shocking, he could have easily passed them off, passed me off, as his date."

Valero shrugged. "Maybe, but the fact is, he didn't. I knew as soon as I got his call he was rattled, would agree to play ball."

"You had to take a chance, though, he could have ignored your letter." Rachel tilted her head. "Now I can guarantee you pictures that will make your mark sit up and take notice." She handed her small digital camera over. "These were taken last night. The subject is Ian Baird, he does some work for the Army, intelligence I think, and more importantly, he's recently become engaged. I'm sure he'd be willing to pay big bucks to keep those pictures from his fiancée."

Valero's eye's widened a bit at the pictures. "How in the world did you get these shots?"

Rachel smirked. "Practice. Plus, you wouldn't believe how many guys will agree to appear in their very own private porno movie. The suckers never think of the consequences."

She held out her hand for the camera. Rather than hand it back to her, Valero put it in his pocket. "You know something Rachel, I think you're right, a partnership between us will be very profitable."

Rachel smiled broadly and poured Valero some wine form the cooler besides the table. "Let's drink to a rewarding new venture."

They spent the rest of the lunch hammering out the details. Rachel pushed Valero hard on the topic of other partners in the blackmail scheme. She passed off her interest as wanting to make sure she was getting her fair share of the profits. By the time they parted, she was satisfied Valero was working solo. There was no reason not to bring him in.

Back at the Hoover Building, Rachel gave the orders that set the wheels in motion. The man from the CIA confirmed they had intel that placed al-Adel on a plane bound for the United States. Jacob was given a dummy copy of the security measures that had supposedly been put in place for the foreign embassies and told to arrange a meeting with Valero. The agents would pick the man up after Jacob handed off the material; that way they would have an air-tight case against him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jacob looked around nervously as he sat on his bench in the Mall. He had been given strict instructions by Rachel as to how he was to behave. He was to walk away from the bench as quickly as possible after handing the material over. They had no reason to believe Valero would resort to violence, but she had insisted Jacob be some distance away before Valero was arrested.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Hood, I'm happy you decided to see reason and cooperate."

Jacob gave a start. He had been so intent on remembering Rachel's instructions he had not noticed Valero's approach. He had to bite back his retort, he had almost involuntarily used Valero's name. He hoped the man would pass off his stutter as nerves.

"Umm, ahh, yes. I have the material you requested." He held out a folder. "I assumed you'd want a hard copy, to verify what I was handing over."

"How very insightful of you." Valero took the folder and carefully checked the contents. "Yes, this seems to be in order." He stood and held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

Jacob ignored the man's outstretched hand; instead he turned and quickly walked off. His jaw clenched at the sound of Valero's laughter behind him. The laughter was cut short as federal agents quickly surrounded him. Jacob turned and watched with satisfaction as agents subdued Valero and placed him under arrest.

Valero glared at Jacob. "You son of a bitch," he spat out. "If you think I'm going down alone, you're crazy." He turned to the agent who was cuffing his hands behind his back. "You might want to bring in that bastard Hood. This isn't the first time he's sold me information. He's been selling me stuff for months."

"Don't worry, Dr. Hood will be accompanying us back to the Hoover Building." Terrance Mason looked over at Jacob, "isn't that right sir?"

"Oh yes," Jacob answered with satisfaction. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jacob stood in the observation room watching as a bored agent stood guard over Valero. Rachel and the man from the CIA were also there and they were intent on what Valero had to say. Even though the agent ignored him, Valero kept talking. He reiterated over and over that Hood was the real villain of the piece. Valero claimed he was merely a pimp; Hood was a customer with expensive tastes in whores. When he had run short of money, he had offered Valero sensitive government information in exchange for access to prostitutes.

"Why are you letting him ramble on like that?" Jacob demanded. His was very uncomfortable with the picture of himself Valero was attempting to paint.

Rachel looked at him in amusement. "I'm not ready to go in there yet. Let him dig his grave a little deeper." She looked at her colleague from the CIA. "What's the latest on the chatter."

"It's solid. al-Adel is in the DC area and ready to make a purchase."

Rachel smiled wolfishly. "Good, now I'm ready to go in there."

Her hair was still in a chignon, but she had changed from the dress she had worn at lunch to a severe black suit and white shirt. Her black reading glasses were sliding down her nose as she read the file she held in her had. Even so, Valero had no trouble recognizing the woman he had thought was his new business partner.

"Shit, you, you're…" he stammered.

"Special Agent Rachel Young," she announced crisply. "And I think you can stop trying to peddle that crap about Dr. Hood." She plucked the blackmail letter out of the folder and threw it on the table in front of Valero. "We both know better."

"This is entrapment. I'll testify this whole blackmail scheme was your idea, that letter's a fake."

Rachel silently raised an eyebrow. She pulled a recorder out of her pocket and pushed a button. Valero's voice, clearly threatening Jacob with exposure if he didn't cooperate was loud and clear. Realizing the feds had him dead to rights, Valero collapsed. He began wheedling Rachel, begging for a deal. He offered to turn over his blackmail files, identify others who had sold him information in exchange for a lighter sentence.

"No deal," Rachel said coolly.

"Fine," Valero snarled. "Then I want a lawyer, I'm not saying another word until my lawyer gets here."

Rachel raised both eyebrows this time. "Lawyer? What makes you think you get a lawyer?"

"I know my rights. So, honey, you just get on the phone and get me my lawyer."

She gave a bark of laughter. "I like that, you're ready to sell this country out and you still try to claim its protection. Well, I've got news for your Mr. Richard Valero. The moment you walked out of the Sudanese mission you were added to the terrorist watch list. You have been formally classified as an enemy combatant in the war on terror."

"What, I'm no terrorist!"

"Really? I hate to disillusion you but anyone who sells information to terrorists is one." Rachel leaned across the table, getting in Valero's face. "Basically you have two options here. You cooperate with the FBI, plead guilty to corrupting a government official, turn over your files, assist us in the capture of al-Adel, and then spend the next twenty years or so in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary."

"Or?"

Rachel sat back with a smile. "Or I turn you over to the CIA as a suspected terrorist and you disappear into Gitmo, or worse. Maybe you'll see the light of day again, maybe not."

Valero paled at the mention of the CIA. His shoulders slumped, "all right, what do you need me to do?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Valero looked around the Constitution Gardens bitterly. They had been a favorite venue of his, a perfect place to meet his blackmail victims. He wondered if that bitch Agent Young knew that, if that was why she had insisted he meet with al-Adel here. He watched as two gardeners began weeding the flower beds, well aware they were undercover FBI agents. He wondered where the others were stationed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rachel watched the surveillance feed from a van parked outside the gardens. This is when she most regretted her promotion from field agent; when the hunt was on and she had to sit on the sidelines and watch as others took down the bad guys. She found herself holding her breath as al-Adel came into range of the cameras. But Valero played his part; soon the al Qaeda operative was surrounded by federal agents. He was taken into custody and whisked away. Satisfied with a job well done, she picked up her phone and punched in a familiar number.

"Sir, Young here. It's over. We got him."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Good work Rachel." Frank Fuller hung up his phone and took up the glass sitting on his desk. He toasted his visitor. "We got him Warren."

The Director of National Intelligence raised his glass in return. "A good day's work." He gave a small huff of laughter. "Who would have thought, because your Science Advisor couldn't keep his hands off his wife, we end up capturing a major al Qaeda operative."

"She did a good work on this one Warren. It wasn't easy either, not with those pictures…"

"Hmm," the Director agreed. "She did a fine job." He raised an eyebrow. "In fact…."

"Forget it," Frank interrupted. "She's staying right where I need her."

The two men clinked glasses, in silent agreement that SAC Young had a bright future at the FBI.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Well?" Jacob looked up expectantly as Rachel entered her office. "Did everything go all right? Was there any trouble picking up al-Adel?"

"Nope, everything went off like clockwork. Valero handed off his documents and we moved in fast." She shrugged. "He's a pro, he knew we had him, didn't try to resist." A smile of satisfaction came over her face. "Even if we had to cede custody of him to Homeland Security, this was a real coup for the Bureau."

"The hell with the Bureau," Jacob objected. "This is a coup for you. You're the one who cracked the blackmail situation and ran the operation that brought al-Adel in. I hope those guys you work with finally learned their lesson."

"What do you mean?"

Jacob smiled smugly and put his arms around her. "That sometimes," he whispered in her ear. "The right man for the job is a woman."


End file.
